


Predicament

by Anonymous



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Aphrodisiacs, Awful Humans Are Awful, Bad BDSM Etiquette, During Canon, Erik Lehnsherr is not a Happy Bunny, Forced Orgasm, Fucking Machines, Non-Consensual Bondage, Other, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The humans spare no effort to get Erik to talk.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: X-Men Kink Meme 2020





	Predicament

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [XMen_Kink_Meme_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/XMen_Kink_Meme_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> They have ways of getting people to comply. 
> 
> Or, the one in which either Charles or Erik is fucked by a sex machine.

If Erik had not been in such an unpleasant situation, he would have applauded the humans’ ingenuity.

_We have our ways of getting people to comply_ , they had told him when he wouldn’t sell out Emma and the others, and he had laughed in their faces even as the plastic restraints around his wrists cut into his flesh and he was taken underground, away from the air and the sunlight and life. He had thought they could not hurt him – could not take more from him than what Shaw had taken when he was a boy, and what Erik had taken from himself when he had deflected that cursed bullet on that beach in Cuba. He had thought that no matter what they did to him, he’d had worse.

Erik had thought he was untouchable. He had been wrong.

He didn’t know how long it had been since his incarceration or his last moderately civilized interrogation, but when the guards showed up this time at the door to his cell, they told him to get up and strip. Erik complied, thinking that maybe it was just another one of their medical examinations.

Only it wasn’t. He realized as much when they escorted him down a corridor he had never seen, then opened the door to a room which looked not a bit like a doctor’s office.

The guards – their uniforms bare, stripped of all things metal – gripped his upper arms tighter. A woman with a blank face rose from a chair in the corner of the room, near a table where a pair of latex gloves, syringes, a package of lube and a vial of a clear, nondescript liquid were spread out.

But Erik’s attention had zeroed in on the contraption in the middle of the room – something that looked like a vaulting horse, with plastic straps and ceramic buckles hanging off its legs, and a piece of complex machinery devoid of all metal positioned at its rear end. A shaft protruded from it, with an ample plastic dildo attached to its tip.

Erik dug his heels in, but the guards picked him up like he weighed nothing and dragged him over to the fucking machine, pressing him down face-first onto the freezing leather and fastening his wrists, ankles and hips with the plastic braces.

Feet off the ground, legs spread wide, Erik could do absolutely nothing but grind his teeth and drag in a few deep breaths through his nose when the woman in the corner pulled on the latex gloves, picked up the lube and slathered three fingers generously. Then, she walked over to stand behind him and without much ado thrust her index up his ass.

Erik’s hole clenched involuntarily around the unwelcome intrusion, and he had to muster up all his willpower not to shout out loud. The torture continued when the woman probed on, found his prostate and rubbed the bundle of nerves shrewdly.

Erik bit his lip, stifling a groan. He would have liked to hide his face against the leather, but his head was jutting out over the buck he was strapped to, and all the guards in the room had a perfect view of the blush spreading over his cheeks and down his neck.

One elbowed his neighbor in the ribs before he leaned in and whispered, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “Told you the mutant bitch would like it.”

Without a word, the woman pulled out, giving Erik just enough time to hope that maybe this was it before she pushed back in with two fingers.

Erik’s hip bucked against their restraints, and his blush deepened as the woman continued working his hole, adding a third, then a fourth finger, loosening him up expertly and drawing the occasional surprised groan of pleasure-pain from his throat. The guards grinned and sniggered, and Erik felt tears of shame begin to prick at his eyes even as his cock stirred, half-hard from the overwhelming stimulation.

But Erik bit his teeth and said nothing. He would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him humiliate himself.

Finally, the woman seemed satisfied. She pulled the sullied glove off, then snapped on a new one and took Erik’s cock in hand, testing its hardness.

“We can do better than that,” she hummed at last and turned, probably to get to work at the table. Even if he had twisted his head around, Erik couldn’t have seen what she was doing, and he certainly couldn’t hear it – at the woman’s words, the guards had broken out laughing, pointing at Erik and exchanging degrading comments.

Erik tugged at his restraints, once and very much in vain, and resolved to only stare at the floor from now on.

Then, the woman was back, at his right shoulder this time. “Hold his head,” she told the guard closest to Erik, “I don’t want him to bite me.”

The guard obliged, and Erik felt a sharp prick as a needle sunk into the crook of his elbow. He jerked but did not try to pull away. They couldn’t possibly be looking to poison one of their most promising sources of information on the mutant problem.

It took a minute for whatever they had shot him up with to take effect, but when it did, Erik could feel a sudden heat starting to course through his body, instantly making him break into a sweat. Satisfied, the woman discarded the syringe and stepped behind Erik again to feel his cock and balls.

Her fingers closed around his shaft, and Erik moaned in ashamed surprise when he instantly grew stiff and rock-hard, sensitive to the smallest touch. The guards grinned, and the woman gave him one last appreciative tug before her hands disappeared and a noise like grinding plastic gears started up behind Erik.

Sweat was dripping into his eyes, and his skin felt like there were flames dancing over it. Erik wriggled in unease, then shivered at the wave of pure lust the friction of the leather on his skin and pert nipples sent crashing through his body. They must’ve shot him up with an aphrodisiac – the only other time he had ever felt like this had been when he had been in Charles’ bed and Charles in his head.

Suddenly, something cool, blunt pressed against his entrance, and he gasped, grinding back on it despite himself.

“Looks like someone’s eager to please,” came the voice of the woman from behind him, followed by a small, final click.

“Screw y–” The rest of Erik’s expletive was cut off by his shout of pained pleasure when the plastic dildo pushed forward and buried itself in his ass.

The whirring of the fucking machine stopped again, and Erik desperately tried to pull in a lungful of air. The woman’s fingers had been a poor preparation for the girth of the dildo – it burned as it stretched him open, impaled him on its length and poked at places of his insides he hadn’t even known existed. In vain, he tried to alleviate the pressure by wiggling around, and his breath hitched pitiably when he only succeeded in driving it further up his ass and over his prostate and his insides clenched involuntarily around it.

But what he was even less prepared for was the overwhelming pleasure unfurling in the pit of his stomach, making it difficult to think straight. Erik might have moaned, since the guards were laughing again, but he couldn’t know – thoughts suddenly clouded, all he could focus on was the spread of his hole and the delicious sensation of being filled so completely, of being split open at the seams.

Then, the dildo moved again, set a quickening pace and started to fuck into him in earnest, and Erik went cross-eyed with pleasure.

He _was_ moaning now – words which even to his own ears were indistinguishable, pleas maybe or curses – and grappling for purchase on the stand’s legs in vain as his body was rocked to and fro from the force of the sex machine driving into him. With every stroke, it stimulated his prostate, sending tingles of pleasure into the tips of his toes and making them curl up almost painfully.

It only took a minute quickening of the machine’s pace, and Erik came with a shout, splattering his semen all over the leather of the vaulting horse.

After that, things became less pleasant.

The machine kept on drilling into him, even as the post-orgasmic bonelessness set in, and Erik couldn’t help keening in unease. The relentless overstimulation had his eyes rolling backwards in their sockets and his shoulders knotting together in tension, and this time he couldn’t keep the tears from falling.

And still, the guards stood and stared in obvious amusement. Erik felt his blood boil, hating them with all his heart even as he blinked the humiliating wetness in his eyes away and pushed a little shout of pain every time the plastic dildo brushed against his too-sensitive prostate. If he had had even a sliver of metal – _any_ metal – at his command, he would have slit their throat and not regretted one drop of the blood spilt.

Then, he felt his cock throb and swell again, and his balls draw up in nervous anticipation. Apparently, the aphrodisiac with which they had induced such humiliating conduct in him also decreased his refractory period.

The realization tore a single dry sob of pure despair from Erik’s throat. It was enough to send the guards jeering and the woman chuckling.

“Remember,” she said and pulled her chair over to sit only inches from Erik’s head, “if you decide to talk, we’ll make it stop instantly.”

“Fu– ngh – fuck you,” was all he could spit out in a pause between the machine’s strokes.

With an unaffected air of indifference, the woman shrugged. “So be it.” Then, she turned to the guards. “We should let him enjoy his new toy for an hour or two. Let’s move out, gentlemen.”

Groaning as the most entertainment they had probably had in weeks was denied to them, the guards did as they were told. One after the other, they filed out of the room, and after she had given Erik an appreciative clap on the buttocks, the woman followed.

The door fell shut, and Erik was alone with his thoughts and the dildo ploughing steadily into his ass. Pressing his fingernails into his palms and leaving red crescent shapes, he tried to steady his breathing and ignore the constant, painfully flaring abuse to his prostate.

And when that wouldn’t work, he screamed until he was hoarse.

After that, they put him through the same procedure twice before Charles, Hank, Logan The Apparent Time-Traveller and that kid who had the zoomies came to free him. Every time, the same woman would prepare him, and every time she would give him a shot of that damned aphrodisiac and laugh with the guards as he was reduced to moaning, keening sobs.

To say Erik was just a tad bit relieved when Charles told him that “I’m _never_ getting inside of that head again” would have been a slight understatement.


End file.
